Oh my gods.
"This is insane," I say flatly, standing up from the table. "Killian, what the actual fuck?"
"The Dean never specified it had to be aprofessor," Killian argues, his grip still firm on Dale's shoulder. "Just faculty. And Dale here is technically faculty. Right, Dale?"
"No," Dale squeaks. "I'm staff. Facilities and maintenance staff. Notfaculty. Very different unions."
Killian's eyes flash blue. "Shhhh, Dale."
The janitor goes even paler.
I close my eyes, counting to ten. Then twenty. When I open them again, Killian is still standing there with his hostage, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
Yep. He's definitely gone off the deep end.
"Step away from Dale, Killian." I move around the table, keeping my voice level. "We need to talk."
"But—"
"Now."
Something in my tone must penetrate his alpha skull, because he releases Dale's shoulder. The poor man sags with visible relief.
"This is awkward," Sean announces, pushing up from his chair. He throws an arm around Dale's shoulders, and the janitor goes rigid again. "Hey buddy, you like nachos? I make these things I call whorehouse nachos. They're life-changing."
"I... what?" Dale looks between us, clearly trying to figure out if this is real life or some kind of fever dream.
"Come on, I'll show you." Sean steers him toward the door. "You play GTA?"
"I don't—I'm supposed to be cleaning the science building?—"
"Science building can wait, Dale-o. Priorities."
They disappear down the hall, Sean's cheerful chatter fading into the distance. I hear the den door slam, then the unmistakable sound of a video game starting up.
Maybe Sean can charm us out of a felony.That'scertainly not going to help our case with the Dean.
I turn back to Killian.
He's watching me warily now, the manic energy draining away to reveal genuine anxiety beneath. Through our bond, I feel it clearly. The overwhelming alpha need to fix this problem before I make what he sees as a terrible mistake.
"I know you're desperate," I say, gentler now. "But this has to stop."
"I'm not desperate. I'm being proactive."
"You kidnapped ajanitor, Killian."
He runs both hands through his hair, making it stand up at even more chaotic angles. "I don't want you working for Villeneuve, Regina. That's my literal fucking nightmare. The point is?—"
"The point is I've already made my decision," I interrupt.
He stops mid-stride. "What?"
"I'm going to accept his offer." The words come out steady. "The teaching assistant position. All of it."
Killian's face goes through several expressions in rapid succession. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Then something that looks almost like betrayal.
"You can't be serious."
